I Never Planned on Someone Like You
by Fiyeraaron
Summary: The couple across the hall were really starting to become a nuisance, so he takes it upon himself to intervene.
1. Chapter 1

He had moved into the apartment on a hot august morning. The apartment complex seemed like a nice place; there were no boarded up windows, weird smells, and the police weren't constantly making an appearance. It was cheap, however, and he didn't initially understand why, just figured it was down to the quiet area around them. Just outside of the city, but it seemed easy to get to the centre by train.

He was alone, of course, so he had to carry all of his boxes up on his own. And, since the heat was nearly unbearable on that particular day, he found himself sweating after the second box. Three flights of stairs. He figured he would have to start hitting the gym again just to get up and down the stairs every now and again.

His job was, in his opinion, perfect. He was a composer, a musician, and so he spent a lot of time in his home, alone. Luckily, that worked with his particular physique and the stupid amount of stairs it took to reach the fourth floor. People in his old neighbourhood used to call him a recluse, but that was purely because he didn't see the light of day for weeks at a time, only resurfacing when he needed inspiration, or was craving his favourite type of chocolate cake.

Speaking of his old neighbourhood, he had left for a few reasons. Firstly, it was way too crowded- he lived on a main road, which attracted many cars and consequently, many people. Secondly, he disliked his neighbours, an old couple who shouted at him for playing his music far too late into the night. And, lastly, but probably the most prominent, the rumours.

The neighbourhood housed a lot of families, young couples with two and a half children looking for a nice, friendly neighbourhood with a large garden and sunny weather. In fact, he had just that family as his right neighbours, and the old couple as his left neighbours.

The children were afraid of him. A little boy and a younger girl. One time they had been playing outside and he had gone to shut the back window. As the fence was low, they saw him instantly. There was screaming, running, and he's pretty sure he got glares from the parents.

He wore a mask. It was as simple as that, and he had given up expecting people to see past it. After all, apart from his repeated black suit and white shirt number, it was the first thing people saw. He'd gotten used to the judgemental and fearfully curious gazes, and come to accept the fact that he wouldn't ever really have an amiable friendship with anyone. People had begun to talk about him behind his back, speculating about his past, his reasons for wearing the mask and never leaving his house. He tried to ignore them, but it still affected him in the worst ways.

As a musician, he obviously had a lot of instruments. And he had found it quite easy to pack them all into the moving truck, carrying them out efficiently and strategically placing them in exact places. However, his grand piano was a different story. Placed at the back of the moving van, so obviously the last object to be taken up to his apartment, proved to be a challenge.

Admittedly, he hadn't thought about it, which was truly unlike him. So, as he carefully slid his most precious possession down the metal ramp, he stared at it quizzically, trying to work out which method would cause him the least pain.

He must had been stood there for a while, because a young man with blonde hair and blue eyes patted him on the back and brought him out of a daze he hadn't realised he had been in. The boy was staring at the organ with a challenging look, seemingly sizing up the object like a man about to partake in a duel.

"So, which floor you on?"

He assumed he was talking to him and not he organ, so he answered in a shaky voice. "The fourth one."

The man nodded his head, and his shaggy hair fell in his eyes. He made no attempt to move it. He moved towards the piano carefully, placing his hands gently on it and testing for any safe handles.

"So, you take the front, I'll take the back?" He was raising an eyebrow at him, so he just decided to go ahead and do as the man said. He seemed to have more of a plan than himself, so he wasn't about to argue.

The piano was much heavier on the second floor than on the first. He found himself having to lean against the cool plaster of the stairwell just to catch his breath on the way up to the third floor.

"Come on, dude, we got this. It's too late to turn back now."

He could talk. He didn't even look tired. He seemed to effortlessly lift the piano, and he could see why when he glanced at the man's arms. The checkered shirt he was wearing seemed to be straining from the muscles in his arms, and his stomach seemed perfectly straight, completely unlike himself.

"You ready? It's not that far now, this'll be a piece of cake."

It was not a piece of cake. In fact, the reason he found it so difficult was probably because he had eaten too many pieces of cake. He felt embarrassed when he realised that the blond man seemed to be taking most of the weight yet didn't even seem to be straining himself.

Eventually, after a hard half an hour of laborious work, they reached the four floor and placed the piano gently down on the hard floor. He could barely breathe, but he could just slide the piano to his door now, which would be easy.

He awkwardly looked at the man who was leaning on the wall, an arm draped lazily over his eyes.

"Uh- thank you." He looked down at his feet. Not only was the fact that somebody had actually helped him completely new to him, but he didn't think he had uttered those two words in a very long time.

"'S'alright, man. I'm on this floor anyway. Which door you got?"

He checked his keys quickly, grabbing them from his pocket. "128."

The man seemed to nod his head idly, looking down the hallway. He looked bored, completely unfazed by what they had just accomplished, while he himself was still trying to gain the energy to stand up straight.

The man straightened and clapped his hands. "So, let's get this baby in then, huh?"

Despite the man's terminology, he took the drift and pushed the piano forward. It wasn't that far down the corridor until they got to apartment 128, a blue door with a gold handle.

"Hey, no way, dude. You're across from me!"

He looked up. The man was pointing to the door across from him labeled 138, the exact same door as his except for the number. He managed a small smile. At least he knew somebody. He wouldn't jump to conclusions and call them friends, but he would call the man an acquaintance.

"It seems so."

The man looked around, then held his hand out over the piano. "I'm Raoul, pleased to meet you."

He shook it, then retrieved his hand and placed it on his piano. "Erik."

"Well, Erik, let's complete this task."

It wasn't until his grand piano was safely inside his room and at least two hours had passed that Erik realised Raoul hadn't commented on his mask.

* * *

**So I listened to I Never Planned on Someone Like You/ Don't Come A-Knocking from Newsies and Bonnie from Bonnie & Clyde for this. I kind of have a hazy plan for what's going to happen, but please- seriously, ****_please_****- give me ideas. Reviews are so appreciated it hurts. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

After a gruelling night of sleeping in an unmade bed, Erik settled to spend the next day or two sorting out his new home. The only unpacked items were his king size bed that he had spent all night slaving over, a couple of pillows and a thin blanket, and his grand piano.

The piano was the centre of everything in his room, standing out from the brown boxes with its perfect shine. He didn't know where he was going to put it yet, but he had so much other stuff to go through that his most prized possession would have to wait until last.

It wasn't until he had successfully unpacked his table and chairs that he realised he had no food in the fridge (it came with the apartment, Erik was proud to admit) or cupboards. Just like the predicament with his piano, he hadn't thought about the innate human need for food and drink.

So, with a heavy sigh, he slipped on his suit jacket and headed towards the door. Looking around, he had a heavy feeling in his chest that he would never finish unpacking and he had been in the apartment for less than a day. Not a good start.

He sighed again and opened the door, his key prepared at his side to lock it on the way out. However, as he opened his door, the door across from him opened simultaneously.

It revealed a young woman; long curly brown hair reaching her small waist, and big blue eyes. He stood still. She seemed to be doing the same thing, equally as shocked as himself from the looks of her wide eyed stare.

"Well, that was creepy." He heard a hint of amusement in her dazed voice as she broke from her stillness and closed the door behind her, not bothering to lock it.

He closed his own door and locked it, putting the keys in his pocket again. "Indeed."

The girl was still looking at him. "Are you the piano guy?"

He did a double take. "E-excuse me?"

"Raoul told me you had a piano. Apparently he helped you carry it up." She was smiling at him.

"Oh-yes. Yes, I have a piano."

"Oh, right." She smiled. "So, uh, are you going somewhere?"

He looked around, but found himself wanting to look at her eyes again. "I was- I was just going to go out and get something to eat." He gestured to the girl, "and yourself?"

"No, I was just going for a walk." She shrugged, looking back towards her door imperceptibly.

He nodded. "Would you like to join me?" He didn't know where it came from, and he admittedly shocked himself. Never before had he been so forward in doing something, never, especially to a girl. And to such a lovely one as well.

Her face seemed to brighten. "Oh, sure!" She grinned at him and took of down the hallway, seemingly expecting him to follow.

Of course, he did.

* * *

She showed him to a small café just around the corner from the apartment block. He hadn't believed all the TV shows depicting a tiny café around every corner in and around the city, but now he saw that it was true. And it was a very nice coffee shop, only a few people sat at the tables, most of them either having friendly conversations or reading a book.

They sat at a table next to the window. It was still insufferably hot, and the glass wasn't helping, but the girl had led him to the seat, so he didn't want to seem rude. He had ordered a sandwich and a cup of coffee, while she, to not make him feel lonely, ordered a blueberry muffin and a water. The little act of kindness that would seem ordinary to some people shocked Erik, and he smiled at her, thanking her. She had acted as though it was nothing, and Erik thought that, perhaps to her, it was nothing.

"So, are you a musician then?"

They were sat across from each other. The girl (he still didn't know her name, but he thought it impolite to ask) was looking out of the window, uncaring abut the sun's rays. From his position, he could clearly see all the contours of her face, and he found himself smiling at the gentle bow of her lips and the sharp yet endearing curve of her jaw.

He jumped at the question. He had been to busy looking at her high cheekbones that he had totally missed what she had said, even though she was still looking out of the window.

"Sorry- um, what?" He said embarrassedly.

She turned to him then, leaning forward to take a sip from her water. He watched her, waiting for her to repeat her question.

"The piano. Are you a musician, or do you play it for fun?"

He smiled at her. This was the type of question he could answer. "I'm a composer." He felt proud saying it in front of her, but he also felt like he was telling her his greatest secret, which was obviously not the case.

"Ooh, really? Anything I might know?"

"Um, maybe? Do you know Don Juan Triumphant? It's playing at The Opera Popula-"

"You composed that?" She seemed to be dumbfounded, staring at him with her doe eyes and her mouth hanging slightly open.

"Well- yes. Why, have you heard it?"

"Actually- yes, I have heard it. I'm playing Aminta."

He let hike mouth drop for a couple of seconds, staring at her in confusion. "You- you're a singer?"

"Yes. What a coincidence! I can't believe you wrote it, I mean, we have so much to talk about!" She said giddily, grinning at him all the while.

He still sat there with his mouth open, gaping at her. How could one single girl display so many great qualities? Not only was she intelligent, beautiful, kind, and friendly; she was also a singer. Oh, how he wished he could hear her sing right then and there.

She looked at him in shock. "Have you not come and seen it performed?"

"No." He shook his head.

"But- but why?"

"Because," should he tell her the reason? The real reason? Maybe she would think him too pompous and take offence, but she seemed like the type of girl to talk about what she felt so maybe they could just talk it out and- "I didn't think the performers would do it justice." He told her the real reason.

She seemed taken aback by his answer, but she recovered quickly. "Maybe you should come and see it. We might change your mind."

"Maybe." He smiled, knowing that she would.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. Where are my manners?" She muttered, "my name is Christine. Christine Daae." She held a dainty hand out for him.

He took it gently. "Erik."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Erik." She smiled at him and he briefly wondered if she smiled at everyone in that particular way.

* * *

On the way back up the stairs to the fourth floor, Christine had invited him to come to one of the performances of Don Juan Triumphant. He had smiled and agreed, saying he would reserve a ticket as soon as possible. The smile she had given him after he had said that- he was certain he had never seen anything as beautiful.

Unfortunately, they both stood in front of their respective doors. She opened her's slightly and looked at him. "I hope to see you soon, Erik." She smiled and walked into the apartment.

He stood there just staring at the door, silently wishing she would emerge once again. After a while it occurred to him that Raoul and Christine shared the apartment, and he didn't know how he felt about that.

* * *

**Please review! Thank you for reading!**


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